Drabbles
by justawesomeokay
Summary: Life, love, etc. Don't expect anything good.
1. Belarus - Wedding Dress

It was perfect. A beautiful gown swathed in lace and pearls. A pale hand touched the dress longingly. It was a pity that it was never to be worn. Once upon a time, she had spent many nights bent over the garment. Her face had been full of hope and wonder as she made her masterpiece. The hand brushed her skirt as she sighed. Those days were long gone. Belarus may have been a fighter, a loner, but she had once been a dreamer.

Not even her beloved sister knew of her wedding dress. It represented a life she would never have. Maybe chasing after her brother was unusual, but it was something she could cling to. Nations weren't meant to love humans, and most of her fellow nations were afraid of her. She was shy and awkward, and her siblings were the only ones who knew her true self. The bond she held dearest was severed by her actions. She was alone now.

Afraid of being left behind, she had attached herself to her brother. It may have given her a bad reputation, but she was at least noticed.

"Brother…"

Her plan had backfired on her in the most painful way. She had grown into the character she had created, and it alienated her from the rest of the nations. Now she was greeted with cringes and yelps rather than second glances. Her siblings avoided her out of shame and fear of a monster who had taken over their sister's body.

She had trouble understanding why she was unwanted. She knew that her physical appearance was acceptable, as the wandering eyes of strangers were anything but subtle, meaning that what everyone found repulsive was inside her. No matter what she did, she would always be seen as the repulsive and incestuous being she was thought to be. Changing her appearance would not save her. The persona she had made doomed her. She took a final glance at the dress that had once been a beacon of a future, maybe not one with her brother, but with someone, anyone, who could bring themselves to love her. It was a sign that told her that maybe, one day, even she could be thought of fondly.

As she struck the match to the bodice, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Though killing her second self would not change her past actions, she would be able to stop loathing her own weakness. It was time to let go. The dress burned quickly, and she left it, abandoning her past and future, to learn how to live without love or friendship.

* * *

><p>Just a friendly reminder that I don't own anything!<p> 


	2. France - Rot

It feels like rotting. He hated thinking that, but couldn't help it. His life was seemingly perfect, and it would only feel like complaining if he ever mentioned it. Yet whenever he had a moment to himself, he would feel the emotions he kept at bay tighten around his heart. It was easy to keep others from noticing. Actually, he mused, it was surprising that anything was noticed by any of the nations. Their lives were so full of drama that nothing would shock them, especially any piece of gossip about the country of love. Those lovable idiots would play along with any persona Francis wanted to show them. Damn fools hadn't even noticed that he had yet to grope any of them, that it was all in their empty heads. It was harsh, but seriously, it would have been nice if one of them noticed…. Sometimes he would have traitorous thoughts that would make him imagine the worry dawn on the faces of his colleagues, how their worrying would begin to smother him, how it would feel to be loved. Yet Francis knew that day would only be true in his imagination.

He could hear the crude whispers sullying his honor from his closest friends, but it only helped to keep his heart in check. The shame the others would bestow on him would be too much to bear. He was already teased for his physical strength, being a whiny bitch would make him a complete outcast. The rot was slowly spreading, but Francis figured that he could keep it from being obvious. He had to, because allowing it freedom would cause his sanity to come crashing down, letting his insecurities realize that not one of his fellow nations would ever give a damn about him. That the only way that he could look at himself in mirror was to tell his reflection that someday, someone would notice that his cheer was only skin-deep, that his flirting was half hearted. That the rot would never get to the point that it would consume his entire being.

Arthur knew that it was silly to keep checking up on his sortofkindof enemy, but something about Francis had seemed off recently. The annoying pervert had started to slow down and observe the antics of the rest of the world rather than join in. He reassured himself that it was just his imagination, his desire to see the bloody frog weak, and that Francis would tell him if anything was wrong. Anyway, the boisterous idiot would be oozing drama and expect HIM to help out. Arthur knew that Francis would be fine no matter what his stupid problem was. It was just how nations worked. So he waited and watched, never noticing the cracks overwhelming the porcelain skin of his neighbor until it was too late to piece him back together.


	3. Prussia - Blind

Umm, this is long and weird. Sorry.

When I first met the bastard, I knew something was rotten in the state of Germany. Heh. England would probably hit me for that, "defiling a bloody brilliant piece of work" or some shit like that. Bitch would probably hit me for whatever Luddy was doing now anyway…. Right, back to the bastard. Well, he was obviously an asshole; and it didn't help that he was one of that stuck-up Austrian's guys either. Anyway, the rat showed up out of nowhere, and suddenly he was the new 'German' fad, beloved by all. It wasn't too bad, though my huge group of followers had been dazzled by the guy.

I recall that Ludwig had only sighed when I complained about my unawesome groupies, and stated tiredly that his new boss was someone actually worth looking up to. I had laughed at my brother, slightly hurt. ONLY slightly, I was obviously amazing, and didn't need my only relation, who I had RAISED, to agree with me. That would be pathetic. Still, I grudgingly approved of the man, because he promised prosperity for the young nation, and while many politicians promised the same thing, it brought hope to the people.

Germany had been down in the dumps lately despite having the most amazing brother in the world, and if this man could rekindle happiness in the blonde, then I didn't mind being second best…. I was NOT jealous, because that's just stupid. I was so happy when Ludwig had continuously tried to get me to meet the man. I had ignored the boy, just to teach him a lesson. It wasn't because I craved attention… I caved when my darling baby brother threatened me with bodily harm. Then, it happened. I met the bastard.

I had expected the usual awe and cowering, but what I received was a shudder and gaze oozing disgust. I remember that I just stood there, awkwardly unsure with how to react. Dense-ass Ludwig hadn't even noticed. The so called 'Fuehrer' then laughed with delight. "What a charming joke," he had said. Asshole. I had demanded an explanation; I was the great Prussia, the most badass kingdom ever! After a confirming nod from Germany, Hitler had greeted me properly, though there was a hint of repulsion in his actions. Much later on, we would have a private and slightly more violent exchange. Ludwig had been delighted that we had met. Poor fool. He had believed that his beloved boss and brother would be the best of friends. Apparently Hitler had been raving about my past deeds. Unfortunately, he had been expecting a more… blond Prussia, a man similar to the 'genetically perfect' Germany.

This leads me to my current predicament. The bastard convinced my deluded brother that I was unhappy being cooped up in the city, and should be allowed to do what I was born for, fight. Maybe I deserved it, it was kind of obvious that quite a number of problematic blips occurred whenever I was around. It was painful to attack Luddy's government, but the ends justified the means, right? I was an idiot for thinking this, and my stupidity sent me to Hell. I am sickened that I had not known of the damage the monster was dealing Europe. Immediately after arrival, numbers were carved into my skin, struck dumb with confusion and pain, I just let it happen. Officers made their way toward me with razors, but were shooed away by the general who had very kindly dragged me to this pit. After taking my clothes and cross, my beloved cross, he left me in the care of these demons, with official paperwork, which I believe says to let me return when I was good and ready to assist in overthrowing the undeserving of the world…. Or maybe it just said that it would be tough to kill me.

The first few days, I was dazed and dumb, not wanting to believe that this was reality. Hundreds of people, revoltingly thin, sad, and broken, constantly being subjected to horrors they should never have endured. It took a few more days to realize that I was now one of these people. Apparently the Fuehrer had found something redeemable in me, as I was now being fixed. I was taken to a man whose official title was doctor, but who was only capable of afflicting pain. I was stored with some children, who looked confused, but never explained their bewilderment. When I eventually left my stupor, I realized three things. One, many of the children were very similar looking. After close examination, I realized that they were siblings, twins. Two, I was the only adult. Lastly, all of the children were more grotesque than the people outside.

It soon became apparent that these kids and I were a sick experiment. I spent almost a week watching kids get sewn together or frozen without being touched. When the day finally came, they almost drowned me in dye, trying to get that 'I'm a perfect Aryan' blond. It didn't look good, but they approved of it. That was two weeks ago. The other day I was treated to a new treatment. Whatever they injected into my eyes, it didn't work. Next dose is in a few days. Not that it matters anymore. What's the point of blue eyes that are blind? Yet my guards are excited. When they get the right color, they insist that I will almost be complete. I hope that when Germany sees what he has done, he will realize that this is wrong. That he sees what this kind of treatment can do to a nation. That he sees. I don't know if I will anymore.


	4. AuSwiss - Saved Chord

Sorry guys, crap once again, haha. I love these two though, they're my otp 3 (and nearly impossible to write)

Most couples have a beautiful love song full of meaning and heartfelt lyrics. Unfortunately, that would just be too easy. Their song was a jumble of whispers in the night and gunshots in the day. The majority of nations agreed that it was a relationship doomed to fail. The aristocrat and the soldier? Sure, in cheap romance novels, such a love could exist, yet in reality, it was at most a one night stand. Their relationship even followed the trashy books. The two were in love, the soldier left for battle, and the aristocrat found love in another. The soldier returns to find that his lover has ditched him for another, then twenty years later (and still looking like gorgeous models, because love can't be ugly) they meet up and jump each other and they both live happily ever after... Alright, it wasn't exactly like that, but hey, it's a love story... kind of. So the world watched and waited for the relationship to blow up, or Roderich.

To those who knew the couple well, it was a bittersweet romance. Tender, but hesitant. Roderich treated Vash like a princess (because he was a gentleman), and Switzerland hadn't shot him yet, which was as close as he could get to being romantic. These select few knew that deep down, the two held a raw and desperate love that could shatter at the slightest mar or touch. They both had open wounds from the other, and both were too proud to admit that said injuries existed, just to prolong their happiness and avoid conflict.

What no other nation knew was that when Austria whispered into his ear, his little lover (they were both far too old to be calling each other their boyfriend) would turn a spectacular shade of pink. Or that Vash was secretly making legible copies of Roderich's smudged music sheets. That they would spend an evening having an icing fight (like adults, because they were mature) because of an elaborate cake gone wrong. The two had problems, like every couple, but they were determined to stay together this time.

So every night, Roderich would slide onto his bench, and call to Switzerland with their song. It had no words, for they needed none. It was fast, it was slow. It was them. Slowly, Vash would stop hiding in the hall, and sit on the floor with his back resting on his Roderich, and they would sit and remember their past together. Every night, the song would end differently, because they were the present, and that was how they intended to stay. So when Roderich stood up and dusted himself off, he would offer a hand to the man he loved, and they would walk to their room, without looking back.


End file.
